The Delusional Old man He's been eyeing on the family compound hillside, prying on the nightly feud. He grows greed to own the place. Only if he can coax the landowner to abandon it. Fool's dream. He sprayed the fire-seeds over the compound to scare the landowner, flee the homestead, burning the house and all, leaving the children and elders shiver in the cold. The villagers rescue the landowner with the food and warm clothes and build a shelter on the lot, rebuke the old man for what he has done. I only tried to stop the family feud, says the old man. What should the villagers do with the old man? Take him to a mental hospital, says the boy. You are my smart Ukraine boy. Grandma hugs him tight. But, the boy continues, you didn't tell me why we are here in the train subway in this cold night. And why do they bomb outside? I just told you, son. ©Byung A. Fallgren
Face masks not for others
Face Masks Not for others and Pink Lilac are accepted
by The Avocet, a Journal of Nature Poetry. They will
be published in the printed issue Spring 2022, The Avocet,
a Journal of Nature Poetry. Thank you, Charles, Vivi, and
Valerie for taking the pieces.
The Weekly Avocet
The Weekly Avocet–#482 is here. (This last for a week.)
My work “Wyoming Wind” appears in this issue.
Winter Haiku/senryu
little bird and the budding leaves listen to each other urgent message from Nature the whistling windows in the wee hour lone buck in the moonlight war invasion never a humanitarian purpose crying children in hunger and cold ©Byung A. Fallgren
Weekly Avocet
winter Haiku/senryu
pastel sky writes a letter
to the snow draped trees below
poem of winter silence
winter game in Beijing
the teen's dream shattered on ice
only she could revive it next season
as her son's wound closing
the winter road trip also lessens
some memory-worn road
©Byung A. Fallgren
Joy
Joy by Clarissa Scott Delaney Joy shakes me like the wind that lifts a sail, Like the loitering wind That laughs through stalwart pines. It floods me like the sun On rain drenched trees That flash with silvered green. I abandon myself to joy-- I laugh--and sing. Too long have I walked a desolate way, Too long stumbled down a maze bewildered.
In the Trust
In the Trust Her love butterfly wings in summer day; the fire in the snow. Her voice sun dust glow in the night; splinters of lake. Her tears for his wound; dying little creature; the soft touch of light opens the doubt of the garden gate. ©Byung A. Fallgren
Virus
I have been vexed by computer virus that makes some of my post(s)
disappear. In addition, WP editor doesn’t work well; why do they
change things that are working so well, only to make them worse?
Weekly Avocet
The Weekly Avocet #480 is here.
This last only for a week.
Byung A. Fallgren 